


My Love Is There For You Any Time of Day

by indevan



Series: Rock Band AU [45]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Babies, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:14:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16322546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: Life changes and moves forward, but not only in a negative way





	My Love Is There For You Any Time of Day

**Author's Note:**

> this is my 200th fic on ao3 so i thought i'd write a quick little snapshot of the various couples at a future point in the timeline to celebrate

Turles remembers when he was a little boy and there was a parade through a neighborhood in the North Side.  He had been mad because even though they called it a “holiday parade,” it was very clearly a Christmas parade.  There had been a carriage in the parade, though, led by horses borrowed from somewhere and one of the local business and he had never heard the  _ clip clop _ of their hooves on the ground before.  To his four-year-old ears, it had been the most beautiful sound in the world.  He had grabbed his grandmother’s hand and asked her what it was.

He thinks of that now as he lies in bed, hearing something that ranks right up there: Broly singing in the shower.  He’s sure he doesn’t know that he can hear him since, if he did, then he definitely wouldn’t be singing. His voice doesn’t match the rest of theirs, which is why he never sings anything more than occasional backup.  It’s twangy and sweet, like honey dripping from a spoon.

_ “And I saw my devil and I saw my deep blue sea,” _ he sings,  _ “and I thought about a calico bonnet from Cheyenne to Tennessee…” _

Turles sits up in bed and yawns.  He figures he ought to finally get up and do something.  Launch is back in town from wherever he wife is building killer robots or bridges or whatever she did and they’re coming over with Dinna.  He hasn’t seen his daughter through more than a video call in months and, as much as he wants to continue lying in bed, listening to his boyfriend sing, he has to get ready to see the other love of his life.

Of course, his timing--as usual--is absolute shit because he’s only just spitting toothpaste into the sink when the buzzer on his apartment goes.

He lets them in, figuring it’s fine if they see him in the sweatpants and ratty t-shirt he pulled on when he got out of bed.  Broly’s still in the shower when they knock on the door, but Turles figures that’s fair. He’s over six and a half feet tall so there’s a lot of him to wash.

“Daddy!”

Dinna rushes past her mothers the second the door opens.  Turles bends down and catches her in his arms. Lifts her up and spins her around.  When he stops, her dark hair is in her face and she’s giggling.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Of course, I am.”

“You got  _ stabbed.” _

Right.  He hasn’t seen Dinna since before they even went on the tour that led to the incident with Broly’s stalker.  Turles shifts her to one side and lifts up the hem of his t-shirt with one hand to show her the scar. The guy didn’t get in deep enough to leave an angry mark, but it’s there and, in his opinion, makes him look punk rock as fuck.

“See?” he says. “Daddy’s fine.”

“Okay, but I told mama when I saw you I was going to give you a thousand kissies.”

She loops her arms around his neck and starts kissing at his cheeks.  Turles has to laugh. Truthfully, he always thought he wasn’t cut out to be a parent.  He had talked about it with Vegeta who felt the same way. Their fucked up upbringings going from generation to generation.  Turles didn’t mind his father, even though he resented him for the longest time for walking out and leaving him with his mother.  But between the three of them co-parenting, he thinks Dinna’s doing alright.

“You knew we were coming,” Launch says, reaching out to flick one of the balls of his industrial piercing. “Why is your latest conquest in the shower?”

He sees Mai sigh and reach out to rub at her wife’s shoulders.  Turles sighs as he lets Dinna trace the faded letters from a stick’n’poke he got at age fourteen on the rise of his collarbone.

“He’s not a conquest,” he says. “It’s my boyfriend.”

“Groupie?”

“Boyfriend,” he repeats.

The shower water cuts out and, moments later, Broly emerges in his underwear, towel-drying his hair.  He steps into the main living area of the loft and stares at Mai and Launch staring at him. He drops the towel and stares at their company.  Launch and Mai stare at him and fear slowly makes the color drain from Broly’s face.

“Hi!” Dinna says excitedly, waving her arms.

“Hi,” he says back.  His hands immediately go to the gold chain around his neck.  He fiddles with it and then ducks back into the bathroom.

Launch is wearing a knowing look and he doesn’t like that the past three years of co-parenting have led her to actually knowing him in some way.  It was one thing when he kissed Broly in the parking lot and everyone else in the band got in their business. They’re family. Launch is Kakarrot’s old co-worker who he fucked in a bathroom stall that resulted in his beautiful and perfect daughter.  She doesn’t  _ get _ to know him.

“You finally made a move, huh?” Launch asks.

“He did,” he says.

That’s where the “finally” comes in.  Broly finally made the first move. Now, though, he’s emerged back in his pajamas and is looking at his phone as makes his way over to them.  Turles notices, when he nears, that he can stand on his tiptoes and kiss him and it makes him smile.

“You’re with daddy?” Dinna asks.

She’s always been direct, even when he met her when she was a toddler.  Broly rolls his lips in and then nods.

“For good?”

He turns and meets Broly’s gaze.  He holds it for a moment and then he turns back to look at Dinna’s eager little face.

“I hope so.”

When he looks back at Broly, he sees that he’s smiling.

\--

“I can’t believe you got married without me there, fuckface!”

Kale thinks she’s made definite headway getting over her insecurities and jealousy issues when she watches Caulifla leap onto Vegeta’s back without her shoulders locking up.  She’s always known her jealousy is irrational since, as Caulifla put it years and years ago on their tour, “I’m a lesbian and he’s practically married.” Their relationship is that akin to siblings.  Like her and Broly.

Although, she mentally amends, they have to take the “practically” part out.

“I got married three months ago,” Vegeta says simply, making no move to throw her off.

“Yeah, well we were on tour, then, and now I’m back and pissed off.”

“It was spur of the moment.”

“I will spur of the moment your face!”

They tussle a bit more and Kale begins to wonder if she should intervene.  Vegeta’s children are no help. Trunks is holding his little sister while they both chant “Fight!” over and over again.  She wishes Bulma were here.  _ She _ has enough strength of personality and authority to get them to stop.

They finally both seem to realize that they’re adults but Caulifla still looks peeved.  Kale decides to do what she  _ can _ do, which is come up and slip her arm through her and plant a kiss on her bare shoulder.  Vegeta scowls and folds his arms. Kale sees that the elbows of the jacket he always wears are almost worn through, the skin just visible through worn threads.

“Don’t be too pissed,” he says gruffly, “Bulma wants to have a big reception anyway and I want to force people to give me gifts so it’s win-win.”

He smirks after he says it and Caulifla nods, looking less mad.

“I’m just saying,” she says, “you were my Best Person at my wedding.”

“And you’d be in ours if we actually had one.”

He waves a hand, the light above them catching the shiny plastic of the “temporary” wedding ring he has on.

“Excuse?” She arches a brow. “Just ‘in’ it?”

Kale strokes her fingers down her arm and presses her cheek against it.

“Kakarrot would have to be best man.”

“Oh.” She shrugs. “That’s fair.”

Bulla wiggles out of her brother’s hold and runs over to her.  She takes Caulifla’s hand and swings it back and forth.

“I throw flowers!”

Kale figures she means that she would be the flower girl but she doesn’t think it’s a far stretch to imagine the child of Vegeta and Bulma pelting people with clumps of petals.  Trunks comes over as well and Kale steps aside so he can grab at her other hand. This is something she’s never felt her irrational jealousy over. She doesn’t mind sharing her wife with Vegeta’s kids.  They adore her and treat her like an aunt. Which means that, by marriage, Kale is also their aunt.

She wonders if Broly will become Dinna’s other dad and she’ll be a sort of aunt there as well, but that’s thinking too far ahead.

“You can be in my wedding,” he says.

“Gee, thanks.  Now I just have to wait ten years for you and Goten to get married.”

“Eleven,” Trunks corrects, rolling his eyes. “Goten’s seven.”

Caulifla laughs.

“Oh, right.  My bad.”

Vegeta comes up and hooks his arm around her shoulders.  Watching it gives Kale a sharp feeling in her chest. It isn’t jealousy but--something else.  Family. It’s not just her quasi-sibling relationship with Vegeta. It’s the connection to his kids.  His family.

“And stop marrying off my son.”

“Look at those two and tell me it’s not inevitable.”

“He’s eight.”

Trunks nods sagely.

“I’m either marrying Goten or Aladdin.  I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

Vegeta and Caulifla laugh, but Kale reads it deeper.  Trunks, young as he is, can freely talk about how he has crushes on boys.  His father is bi, his uncle is gay, and his sort of aunt is a lesbian. He has support and love no matter who he wants to be with and it makes her think of her own family.  Her parents haven’t spoken to her in ten years. Cabba’s parents are nice but they aren’t a family. She looks at Caulifla who’s now got Trunks upside down and swinging him by one leg while Bulla demands a turn and something occurs to her.

Family.

Later, they’re leaving and she stops her in the elevator.

“What?” Caulifla asks. “Everything alright, babe?”

The elevator moves down and Kale thinks she might stop it but--the penthouse is so high up she has time.

“I want a family of our own,” she says. “I want to adopt or.  Whatever. I want a family with you.”

When she speaks the words, she feels like she’s been thinking about it for far longer than just the past few minutes.  It’s what she’s wanted for a long time. Caulifla’s face splits wide in a smile.

“Fuck yeah!” she exclaims. “Our badass babies with their lesbian rock star moms!”

She lets out a whoop and wraps her arms around Kale to pull her close.  She kisses her enthusiastically and Kale kisses her back.

\--

Chi-Chi’s grown used to how tactile Bulma is over the years, but she’s still surprised when she tells her the news and has the woman all but wrapped around her.

“This is amazing!” she exclaims. “We’re pregnant at the same time!”

Chi-Chi pulls from the embrace, wondering if she heard her right.

“You’re pregnant?”

She nods. “Yep.  Going on eleven weeks.”

“I’m twelve,” Chi-Chi says.

That’s.  Remarkably close.  Kakarrot must have overheard because he lets out a low whistle as he walks into the kitchen where they’re sitting.

“I’m a little worried,” Chi-Chi says. “I was only nine weeks...last time.”

Bulma takes her hands and walks her to the kitchen table to sit.  It occurs to Chi-Chi, not for the first time since moving in, that the living room of their old apartment could fit in this kitchen.  Their house isn’t huge, but it can comfortably fit the four of them. She takes one hand from Bulma’s and places it against her midsection.  The five of them.

“It’s okay.  You don’t have to work at the restaurant anymore.  You can take it easy. You’ve seen the doctor?”

She nods.  Kakarrot walks up behind her and brushes his hand over the back of her shoulders.  Without thinking, Chi-Chi reaches up to snag his hand. Holds it.

“But this is great,” Bulma says. “We can be miserable together.”

“Is it that bad?” Kakarrot asks.

Chi-Chi nods. “Awful.”

“And then labor,” Bulma adds. “Trunks was a c-section, which sucked in its own way, but Bulla was so painful.  My kids have big heads.”

“Blame your husband,” Chi-Chi tells her.

Bulma laughs, covering her mouth with one hand.  The swinging door to the kitchen opens and Lapis comes in, carrying a pouting Bardock.

“What happened?” Kakarrot asks.

“He stole Goten’s toy, Goten said, ‘I hate when you do that’ and he said ‘hate a bad word’ and started crying.”

Bardock buries his face in his father’s neck and then clings tightly with both arms and legs.  Chi-Chi notices that he’s already getting pretty tall, but that’s to be expected considering that he’s half Raditz.

“Lapis,” Bulma says. “Did you know Chi-Chi’s pregnant?”

He nods. “She announced it at friday night dinner.”

Bulma’s eyes flick to Bardock and Chi-Chi can guess what she’s thinking.

“What about you two?” she asks. “On the baby front.”

Lapis makes a face.

“No.  Well.” The look drops. “We’ve talked about adoption.  But we aren’t having another biological kid unless it’s a surrogate.  Bardy wasn’t exactly...planned.”

Bardock perks up and grins broadly, bad mood apparently gone.

“I was a surprise!”

Lapis looks down at him and the amused face he tends to make constantly fades to pure fondness.

“You were,” he says warmly.  Kisses him on the forehead. “Now go see daddy.”

He puts him down and Bardock all but pelts out of the room.  Once he’s gone, Lapis turns and folds his arms.

“I couldn’t go through the dysphoria again,” he explains. “So, for now, Bardy’s an only child.”

Chi-Chi vaguely remembers Raditz talking about driving Lapis to therapy sessions and so nods.  Bulma reaches across the table, clearly keen to change the subject to something more pleasant.

“So, have you thought of any names?” she asks.

Chi-Chi tangles her fingers with Kakarrot’s and puts her other hand on her stomach.

“I was thinking since we let Gohan name Goten, we would let Goten name this one.”

She feels her husband still behind her.

“I dunno,” Kakarrot says. “I think that that’s a good way to wind up with a kid named Pizza.”

Lapis and Bulma both laugh.  He has a point, but she’s certain that their seven-year-old would come up with a good name.

As if knowing he was being talked about, she hears Goten’s voice come from the living room.

“Stop it, Bardy, you rude baby!”

The declaration is followed by a roar of laughter from Raditz and Lapis closes his eyes.

“I better go see what that’s about.”

Chi-Chi nods, chewing on her lower lip.

“Maybe we’ll just ask Goten what he  _ thinks _ would be a good name,” she amends.


End file.
